Marching To The Beat Of Our Own Drum
by Aleisha Potter
Summary: Marching Band AU. Scott McCall had it all. First chair trumpet, first line lacrosse, great friends and an awesome mom. What he didn't have, was the guts to go after what he really wanted. Isaac Lahey was good at watching people. He was the quiet one, the one no one ever noticed. That was fine, but everything was about to change when he noticed Scott watching him back.
1. Chapter 1

Part One

Scott pulled out his slide and uncapped his slide grease. He squirted a small amount on the slide and hastily rubbed it in. A movement from the side caught his attention. He glanced over to see Isaac, a clarinet player, sitting down a few chairs away from him. Scott smiled when Isaac glanced up then went back to greasing his slides. His third valve slide had been sticking all during practice and it was a pain to get out.

He was just finishing up with the last slide when another movement caught his eye. He looked up from his trumpet in time to get a face full of sweaty towel.

"Gross!" he bit out, throwing the towel down to familiar laughter. "Stiles!" he growled.

"Oh, come on, just a little manly body sweat!" Stiles teased.

Scott gave his long-time friend a half-hearted glare. He glanced behind Stiles and noticed Isaac was still there. The other boy gave him a small smile when Scott caught him watching their interaction. Scott smiled back as Isaac popped his reed into his mouth.

Scott had to admit, he would have pegged Stiles for a woodwind, constantly sucking on a reed would have been perfect for his friend's oral fixation, but then again, maybe percussion was a better place for the ultra hyper, ADHD kid.

He watched Isaac move the reed from one side of his mouth to the other, the slightest flash of pink tongue helped move it along. He felt the familiar, uncomfortable stirring that always came when he watched the taller boy get ready for practice.

"Hey! Earth to Scott!" Stiles interrupted. Scott tore his eyes away from Isaac's mouth and glanced back over to his friend.

"Sorry, what?" he asked.

"So, truth time, dude. How often do you use that shit for lube?" Stiles teased, bringing up an old joke as he pointed at the slide grease and valve oil. He opened his mouth to give the normal response when a loud clatter stopped him mid breath. He looked back at Isaac and found the taller boy blushing, clarinet case on the floor. He had a tube of cork grease out and half way to the instrument on his lap.

"Good thing your clarinet wasn't in the case," Scott offered, hoping to change the subject.

"Uh, yeah," Isaac answered around the reed still in his mouth, bending down and picking up spare reeds, a mouthpiece and what looked like a broken ligature. "Huh. Guess I should clean this thing out more often," he muttered.

"Dude! Come on, hurry up! Call of Duty, my house. My dad's out all night!" Stiles nudged him, pulling his attention away from Isaac once again.

"Okay, okay. Let me just put my trumpet up and we can go. Guess we'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, turning back to Isaac. The taller boy just nodded. Scott knew that the squad leader for the clarinets liked to have the practice field last, always running their practice into the dark, but tomorrow would be a full-band day, so he'd see the other boy then.

"Yeah. Have fun playing video games," Isaac offered with a small smile before picking up his now completely put together clarinet and walking out the band room door.

"That kid is weird," Stiles spoke up, watching Isaac disappear outside.

"That, coming from you?" Scott teased.

"Har har. Seriously, move it! Pizza… Playstation… " Stiles wheedled.

"I'm surprised you didn't throw Porn in there," Scott teased.

"Hey, the night's still young. Let's go!" Stiles jumped up and grabbed his drum sticks and jogged out of the band room. Scott rolled his eyes and put his trumpet carefully in its case, ready to go for practice in the morning then carried it into the instrument room and slid it into his cubby.

A/N: I was in marching band for a total of 12 years between Jr. High, Sr. High and college. I played trumpet and french horn but my best friends played clarinet. Terms and such are used based on what things were called and how we did stuff, so there is room for differences. There is more to come, I have tons of plans/ideas for this… I couldn't help it…it calls to me…


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

Warning: Isaac is still abused by his father in this. Mr. Lahey uses homophobic language and puts his son down for his assumed and real preferences. There will be scenes and flashbacks that could be triggering. Read with caution.

6 AM. Isaac loved early morning practices. He was probably one of the few that did, but anything to get him out of the house earlier was good in his book. He always showed up at 5:45 on the dot, the earliest the band room would be opened. The rest of the band would straggle in sometime between 5:59 and 6:15, based on how important band was to them. Scott was usually one of the ones to stumble in at a minute or two til six, but today he marched in, bright eyed and alert at 6:50. He had his back pack slung over his shoulder and a 44oz soda in his hand.

"I know you aren't planning on drinking that right before you play, McCall! You know how much shit you'll get in your trumpet?" Finstock called out from his office.

"Don't worry, Coach. I brought my toothbrush and Listerene," Scott called back. Of course, Finstock hadn't been a coach for years, but he still demanded they address him as such. He said what hid did qualified as coaching, and if they forgot it, marching band or not, he'd have them running suicides, or doing pushups until their arms fell off.

"Did you really?" Isaac couldn't help but ask. Scott turned to him at the question and gave a huge smile. Maybe he shouldn't have asked, he should have kept quiet.

"Hell, no. But it'll shut him up, so..." Scott shrugged then went to get his trumpet. Isaac swallowed. That wasn't so bad. He talked to him _and _smiled.

Scott came back with his trumpet and lyre and plopped down next to him. Right next to him. Their chairs were even touching. Isaac swallowed his nerves as Scott started organizing the music they were working on today. He was trying to think of something to say, anything to maybe get Scott to look at him and smile again when Stiles marched in and took the seat on his other side. The teen plopped down and started rattling his leg against the polished floor of the band room.

"Stiles, how much Adderrall have you had?" Scott asked, putting down his lyre and looking across Isaac.

"Not that much," Stiles answered with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little more than my normal dose... and three cups of coffee... and an amp. I was up all night on Wikipedia!" he rambled, leg bouncing up and down. "I'll be fine, just give me my quads."

Scott snorted and burst out laughing.

"This is gonna be a fun practice," he mumbled under his breath.

"Scott, do you think I'm attractive to gay guys?" Stiles asked out of nowhere. Isaac looked up quickly, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. Was that why they were sitting like this? Caging him in so they could make fun of him? Had they figured it out and now they were going to make sure the whole band knew? Was Scott smiling a trick? Was he really laughing at _him_?

"Where the hell did that come from?" Scott asked laughing even harder. "Hey, look, there's Danny, go ask him!" Scott pointed across the room the the other trumpet player that had just walked in the room.

"Hey, good idea!" With that, Stiles jumped up and all but skipped across the room to throw across the chair next to Danny's. Isaac swallowed down his panic, forcing his chest to stop restricting.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, smile fading slightly.

"Um, yeah, fine. Stiles... he's, uh, a lot to take in," Isaac explained. He was the king of bullshit excuses.

Scott gave him another crooked smile.

"Yeah, sorry about that. He's... well, he's Stiles. All that kinda comes with the territory."

"Yeah. No big deal," Isaac offered his own small smile in return and felt warm all the way through when Scott's smile tripled. "Is Stiles... I mean, I didn't know he was... Not that I'm assuming he is or anything..." Isaac fumbled his words, not sure how to ask, not even sure it was his place to ask, but, well... Stiles hadn't seemed like he was trying to hide it.

"Gay?" Scott asked.

Isaac nodded.

"Nah. I think he's more... if it'll pay him attention, then he'll go for it. Do they have a word for that? Omnisexual.. pansexual? I don't know. I don't think gender matters to him," Scott explained with a shrug as he went back to organizing his music. He stopped halfway through moving one piece of sheet music to the front and tensed up. Not looking up from his lyre, he asked, "Does that bother you?"

"No!" Isaac was quick assure him. "Not at all. I was just curious."

Scott's shoulders relaxed and he smiled again.

"Good."

"Okay, you lazy assholes! Get your butts out there on the field... NOW!" Finstock called.

Isaac sighed.

"That man takes this way too seriously," he muttered, gathering up his clarinet.

"Yeah, but I guess everyone needs a purpose in life?" Scott asked, attaching his lyre to his trumpet and following Isaac out the door. Isaac turned to say something but what he was going to say was lost when he caught sight of Scott licking his lips, then the mouthpiece. He watched the other boy put the instrument up to his lips and buzz out a couple trial notes. Isaac could feel the blood stirring down below and tore his eyes away before he embarrassed himself.

"Yeah," he laughed weakly, then sped up, pulling away from Scott and towards the other woodwinds.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Warning: depiction of panic attack. I don't know a whole lot about panic attacks, I've done some research, but obviously, without having gone through one, I can't make it perfect. I tried to be respectful with it, and I don't mean any offense if it wasn't handled right.**

**Chapter Three**

Isaac stood on the side of the field, Harris in his face, ranting about his chemistry grade. The sounds of the band dismissing behind him were fading away as the tightness took hold. He could feel his clarinet in his fingers. He gripped it tight, trying to focus.

"This is your only warning, Lahey," Harris was saying through a tunnel. "Bring up your grade, or I'll be forced to let Finstock know, and he'll pull you from marching. Academic probation." With that, Harris turned and stomped away from the practice field. Isaac forced breaths through his failing lungs. The world was starting to spin.

Suddenly, two hands were gripping his shoulders. A face swam into focus.

"Isaac!" Scott called out, squeezing his shoulders. "Isaac, breathe. What's wrong?" the other boy asked. Isaac couldn't answer. He felt his chest tighten more, he was going to lose consciousnesses.

"Isaac?" a new voice asked. "Isaac, listen. Breath. In.. out.. count with me. Ten breaths, one, two..." Isaac struggled to listen to the new voice. He forced a breath in. One. Another after that. Two. He gasped, feeling his chest finally loosen.

"There ya go," Isaac finally recognized the new voice. Stiles.

"Isaac? Are you okay, now?" Scott asked, still holding his shoulders. He could see Stiles standing off to the side, both boys had worried expressions on their faces. Isaac forced out a nod.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered. "I'm okay. Sorry," Isaac apologized, embarrassed at his break down. They'd been getting worse.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to apologize. What happened?" Scott asked.

"I.. I don't know. It happens sometimes," Isaac admitted.

"Panic attack," Stiles spoke up. "I started having them after my mom died."

Scott glanced over at Stiles.

"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten that."

"Lucky you," Stiles muttered just loud enough for Isaac to hear. "What set you off?" the drummer asked.

Isaac swallowed.

"Harris came to talk to me. Apparently, I'm nearly failing chemistry. He said I had to bring my grade up or he'll report me and I'll be benched. I won't be able to march."

"Dude, that's no problem!" Scott told him, breaking out into a smile. "I can help... well, okay, no I can't, I suck at chem, but Stiles pulled me through, so, he can help you," Scott offered, turning puppy dog eyes on the drummer. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Gee, thanks for asking first, Scott. But seriously, no problem. Come by my house after practice and we can study. If I can pull Scott away from an F, I can help you," Stiles told him.

Isaac couldn't figure out what the catch was. No one helped someone unless there was something in it for them.

"What do you want in exchange?" he asked. Unless it was something horrible, it would be worth it. Band was the only thing keeping him sane, keeping him out of the house and away from his dad.

Stiles looked confused.

"What do you mean? I don't want anything, except you to, you know, _not fail_, because then Scott will pout. And Scott pouting sucks," Stiles told him. Isaac wasn't sure he believed him, but he didn't have all that many other options, so...

"Okay. I'll be there," he agreed.

Scott's smile was worth it.

* * *

Scott clapped Stiles on the shoulder after they'd walked away from Isaac.

"Thanks man, this means a lot," Scott told him.

"Yeah, well, you owe me. I totally had COD time planned tonight, not chemistry. Definitely not Lahey time," Stiles griped.

"Hey, be nice. There's nothing wrong with Isaac. He's nice," Scott defended.

"I never said there was, it's just... he's always so quiet. Dude, he's gonna drive me nuts. I can't stand quiet," Stiles complained.

"C'mon. He needs help. We can help."

"You mean, _I _can help. You barely passed chemistry yourself," Stiles pointed out.

"Okay, _you_ can help. Please?" Scott pleaded, really wanting Stiles to try and like Isaac. They could all get along, right? All be friends.

"Alright. But, if this becomes a thing? He's pitching in for pizza. My dad's salary can't feed three teenage boys."

"Here," Scott offered, handing him a twenty. "I've got it tonight, okay?"

"Softie," Stiles teased, then sobered. "Why do you think he gets panic attacks? I mean, do you think it's just teenage anxiety? Or, you know, something else? I mean, I've heard the stories. His mom died years ago," Stiles looked sick at his words, like he was remembering losing his own mom, "and his brother was killed overseas last year. Think it's something about that?"

Scott shrugged.

"Who knows. Maybe he'll tell us, if he starts to trust us," he offered.

"Maybe," Stiles responded, looking lost in thought.

"Hey, thanks for helping, for talking him down. I didn't remember what to do," Scott said.

"No problem. Those aren't fun... trust me, I know," Stiles replied quietly.

"Okay, I'm going to pack up. I have my mom's car, meet you at your house? I'll call in the pizza," Scott told him.

Stiles nodded.

"Sounds good. See ya soon."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Warning! NSFW. Graphic depictions of masturbation. :) Also, sorry about the Queer as Folk stuff, but someone was joking with me saying that the story could totally be turned into an AU with Derek staring as Brian and Stiles as Justin and I just laughed and laughed, then I went and threw it in here... I regret nothing! For darling Mclahee, as always...**

Isaac finished balancing his fourth chemical equation. Something about the way Stiles explained it made so much sense, it was so clear compared to Harris' half-assed explanations. He was about to hand over the paper to Scott to check against the answer key when Stiles came bounding into the bedroom. The drummer flung himself onto the bed with a gleeful smile, holding a colorful box wrapped in plastic.

"It came!" he shouted, bouncing a couple times before settling. He held up the box and Isaac could see it was a dvd box set.

Scott groaned and when Isaac glanced over, he was blushing.

"Oh, come on! I've been waiting forever for this! No more illegal streaming! Special features! Scott, you promised!" Stiles sputtered.

Isaac squinted at the box, finally making out the title. "Queer as Folk?" he asked.

"Yes! Ever seen it? The American version I mean, never cared for the British version," Stiles asked him.

Isaac shook his head.

"Oh my god! It's awesome. It's like... a soap opera, sorta, only, all the characters are gay! And-" Stiles started but was interrupted by Scott.

"Stiles loves it because it's soft core porn." Isaac blushed at Scott's pronouncement.

"That's bullshit! Okay, so the sex isn't _bad _but there's more to it! The story is really powerful!" he insisted. "And I love the way the relationship progresses! I mean, here you have this total douche with a weird obsession with leather who screws anything that moves, and he meets this innocent kid who totally changes him and-"

"And you're leaving out the part where Justin was 17 and Brian was 29," Scott broke in again.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Let's watch it, Isaac can get caught up!" Stiles jumped off the bed and started setting up his laptop to play the first disc. Scott shifted next to him, turning to talk to him.

"If you don't want to watch it, that's fine. We really don't have to, it's not everybody's thing," Scott told him.

"Did you like it?" Isaac asked.

Scott blushed again but shrugged.

"Yeah, I did. It's not a bad story. There's a couple of lesbians who are really funny," he admitted.

"And the sex is hot!" Stiles called back from his desk.

Isaac shifted on the bed. What could it hurt? It sounded like they both liked it, and he really wanted them to like him, to let him keep hanging out with them. And the thought that Scott actually enjoyed a show centered around gay characters...

"It's fine. We can watch it," Isaac told him, handing him his paper. Scott smiled and took the work, checking it against the key.

"Hey, you got them all right! Great job!" Scott praised. Isaac smiled. Maybe he _could_ pass chemistry.

"Awesome! I think you've got it," Stiles chimed in, taking a seat on the other side of Scott. "We'll start something new tomorrow, now... we celebrate!" Stiles hit play on his laptop then leaned back against the headboard.

The first ten minutes of the episode played and Isaac was... shocked.

"Does your dad know you have this?" Isaac asked Stiles while the two main characters, completely nude, were going at it on the bed.

"Hell no," Stiles answered with a smirk. "Oh! Pizza's here!" he called after a loud ringing sounded in the hall. "I'll be right back." Stiles jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. Isaac turned back to the show. The screen showed the two characters having sex... in a surprising amount of detail. No wonder Scott called it soft core porn. He shifted nervously, afraid Scott would notice that a certain part of him was _very _interested in what was going on. He glanced over at the other boy and noticed Scott entranced by the screen. He watched Scott's tongue peek out, wetting his lips. Isaac carefully pulled one of Stiles' pillows over his lap but froze when the motion caught Scott's attention.

"Okay?" he asked. Isaac felt his face burn. He turned away, but that only brought the scene on the screen to his gaze.

"Uh... yeah. Fine," he told Scott, voice a little wobbly. Shit. Scott shifted closer.

"Confession time," Scott whispered. "I was thirteen the first time Stiles and I watched this and I totally came in my pants."

Isaac burst out laughing. He turned and looked at Scott. The other boy was smiling proudly, with the slightest blush on his face. Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles came back at that moment, two boxes of pizza in his arms.

The three of them devoured the pizzas and finished two episodes before Isaac had to head home. If he missed his curfew by even a minute, he'd regret it. He waved goodbye to both boys and jumped into his beat up Toyota.

Once Isaac had scurried past his drunk dad and made it to his bedroom, he finally thought back to the evening. He thought of Scott and his words. Was that Scott's way of saying he was into guys, too? Or, was it his way of saying, "don't worry about it! Even straight guys can get turned on by this, it doesn't mean anything." Did Scott watch the show because he really enjoyed it? Or was it all part of his complete and utter devotion to all things Stiles? Was he just supporting his friend? Isaac didn't _know_ and it was driving him nuts. He thought about the show, about the way Scott was staring at the screen, the way his tongue peeked out across his lips. He imagined leaning over and pressing his lips to Scott's. He was hard inside his boxers. Isaac reached down and pulled his dick out through the opening and, after licking his hand, stroked it a couple times.

He thought of Scott on the field, back straight, marching across it like he owned it. He pictured his nimble fingers, pushing down the valves at a speed Isaac could barely keep up with, runs and scales flying from his lips without effort. He sped up his strokes, imagining Scott over him, his legs wrapped around the other boy the way Justin's had wrapped around Brian in the show. Would it hurt or would it be a delicious stretch, an overly-full feeling that just can't be described? He thumbed the slit of his dick, rubbing the wetness down to coat his dick and stroked faster. He could picture it clearly, Scott over him. looking down on him, promising to be gentle, to go slow. Isaac threw his head back into his pillow, biting his lip to keep quiet. He reached down with his other hand, rubbing one finger around his hole. He pictured Scott, leaning over him, moaning his name as he came. He tightened his fist and pumped once more before he came, covering his fingers, his stomach and chest in jizz.

He panted as he came down from his orgasm induced high, realizing what he'd just done. Fuck. He was so screwed.


	5. Chapter 5

Isaac glanced around the hotel room. He and Scott had lucked out, Greenberg was on suspension for fighting and Jared was out with the stomach flu, leaving the room to just the two of them. Isaac knew Scott would probably rather room with Stiles, but Finstock had outlawed that particular room pairing back in freshman year.

"Dude, this is awesome!" Scott exclaimed, dropping his bag on the bed nearest the door.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Isaac agreed. He was honestly thankful to be here at all. Stiles had pulled a miracle and helped him pass chemistry, against all odds. Sharing a room, alone, with Scott was just icing on the cake.

"So, uh, I brought my laptop," he told Isaac, pulling out the thin MacBook. "I thought we might could watch some more Queer as Folk. If you want," he added.

Isaac smiled.

"Sure. Did you want to go down and swim?" He asked. Most of the band had attacked the large indoor pool as soon as they'd gotten here, but Isaac wasn't really in the swimming mood. Ok, so what he really wasn't in the mood for was having to lie about, or hide, the bruise on his back. He had let the lasagne get too done last night, a mistake he knew not to make. He was lucky he'd only ended up with one bruise.

Scott shrugged.

"The pool's crowded," he hedged. "We could just hang out in here," Scott offered. "Unless you wanted to swim," he added quickly with a side glance at Isaac.

Isaac gave him a smile.

"Nah, hanging out here is fine," he assured the trumpet player. Scott's smile was totally worth it.

"Cool! I borrowed the first two discs from Stiles, so we can pick up where we left off," he told Isaac, moving over to the desk to set up the laptop.

Isaac watched him queue up the episode. The desk was situated directly in front of the bed Isaac had claimed. He was pretty sure Scott wouldn't be able to see from his own bed, so he scooted over to one side. When Scott had the opening credits playing and had turned around, Isaac patted the bed beside him.

"You can probably see better from here," he said by way of explanation.

"Thanks, man," Scott replied, taking the seat. He stretched his shorter legs out, letting them press gently against Isaac's. Isaac swallowed silently. He could feel a blush rising in his cheeks, so he turned his attention to the show, hoping not to draw attention to himself.

Half an hour into the episode, and Isaac was wondering why he had thought this was a good idea. He was hard in his shorts, and the hot press of Scott's leg against his own was turning into a form of torture. He carefully glanced over at the teen, and was shocked to find Scott was as flushed as he was and... and he was rubbing himself... his very hard self, through his own shorts. The other teen glanced over without warning, as if he could sense Isaac's eyes on him. When their eyes met, Scott froze, blushing deep red.

"I, uh... sorry. Stiles and I have this... thing. A sorta code, for when we watch shit like this," he stumbled over his explanation, pulling his hand away from his dick. "Do what you have to do," he told him. "No questions, no teasing. It works," he shrugged. "Kinda forgot, sorry," Scott finished lamely.

"So... you guys jerk off together?" Isaac asked, trying to figure out if he'd gotten that right.

Scott nodded.

Isaac thought for a minute. The temptation for a glance a Scott's cock was too much.

"You can, you know," he blurted out. "I mean, if you want to, it won't freak me out," he promised. Scott gave him a calculating look.

"Ok, but... dude, you're hard, too, and I don't want to be the only one," Scott told him. Isaac could feel the tips of his ears turn red.

"You want me to jerk off, too?" he asked. It was Scott's turn to blush.

"Only if you want to, we don't have to," he told him in a rush. Isaac considered it. Really, it was worth it to get a glimpse of Scott as he came.

"Okay," Isaac agreed. Scott gave him a surprised look.

"Okay," the other teen agreed.

Scott licked his lips before looking back at the computer. He quickly unzipped his shorts and pulled his erection out. Isaac couldn't help but stare. Scott was a little longer than him, but not as wide and he wasn't circumcised. Isaac licked his own lips as he watched Scott run his hand up the flesh, pulling the foreskin up and over the exposed, glistening tip.

He rushed to undo his own pants, pulling his dick out and giving it a sympathetic stroke. He knew he should probably be watching the two characters on the screen, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from Scott's hand as it stroked the hard flesh.

Scott's breathing was ragged and uneven and the sound of it combined with the slick slide of skin on skin was pushing Isaac closer to the edge. He was so intent on watching and listening, that he didn't notice when Scott had stopped watching the computer. It wasn't until the other teen asked him a question that he was pulled back to reality.

"Have you every had a hand job?" Scott asked breathlessly.

"Huh?" Isaac asked, feeling a little slow.

"Has anyone ever jerked you off?" he asked, rewording his question.

Isaac shook his head wordlessly, shock keeping him from being too embarrassed about admiting to being a virgin.

"Can I?" Scott asked. Isaac just blinked, trying to comprehend what had just been asked. "It's really a lot better, someone else's hand," added.

Isaac nodded, too surprised to really think about what was being offered. Scott immediately reached over and took his dick in hand. He gave a test stroke before pulling his hand away. He licked a stripe up his palm then grasped the erection again. Isaac let out an involuntary shudder.

"Okay?" Scott asked, searching his eyes before continuing.

"Yeah," Isaac whispered, trying hard not to thrust up into the fist around his cock.

Scott set a quick pace, and he was right, it was totally different, amazing, to have another hand, warm and tight, bringing you off. Scott shifted closer.

"You look fucking hot like this," he whispered. Isaac gasped and bucked up. He was so close and it had been an embarrassingly short time. Scott tightened his hand and gave a little twist on the upstroke and Isaac was done. He came with a quiet whimper, pulse after pulse of come covering his stomach and Scott's hand.

"Fuck," Scott muttered, quickly pulling his hand back to his dick. He used Isaac's jizz to jerk himself off, coming after only a handful of strokes. The teen leaned back against the headboard, panting as he came down.

Isaac realized he was staring at his friend, his own dick limp and hanging out and his stomach covered in sticky, cooling come.

Scott's head rolled to the side and he gave him a crooked smile.

"You okay?" he asked.

Isaac nodded.

"I, uh, think I need a shower, though," he admitted quietly.

"Okay. Go for it," Scott told him, grabbing a handful of tissues to start his own clean up.

Isaac quickly pulled his pants back together, tucking his dick back in before retreating to the bathroom. Once he was alone, he sat down on the closed toilet.

What. The. Hell. What had just happened? Okay, so he knew what had happened, but... what did it mean? Was that just... Scott said he and Stiles did it, so... was it just something between friends?

Isaac was confused. He thought his first time would be... different. But, he'd had plenty of chances to say no. And, it wasn't horrible. It just... it wasn't candles and roses. He couldn't decide how he felt, so, he decided to shower and worry about it after.


End file.
